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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26941015">Of Chamomile and Sweet Caresses</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Introvertedfangirl/pseuds/Introvertedfangirl'>Introvertedfangirl</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Bathing/Washing, Emotionally Constipated Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Fluff, Fluffy Ending, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Has Feelings, Hair Braiding, Hair Washing, M/M, Pre-Slash, Soft Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Soft Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion, Soft Jaskier | Dandelion, Tenderness, Witchertober (The Witcher)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 17:01:50</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,995</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26941015</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Introvertedfangirl/pseuds/Introvertedfangirl</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Geralt's body is tired and his muscles are in pain after a hunt. Softness ensues via Jaskier washing his hair. ( it is rated teens and up because I cursed twice).</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia &amp; Jaskier | Dandelion, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>98</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Of Chamomile and Sweet Caresses</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>So idk what this is hopefully someone enjoys it it's like a bit of a mess. This almost turned into smut before I realize I am a f*cking coward lolol. Like the spiciest thing I've ever written was Geralt undressing( though it is certainly and never will be the spiciest thing I've ever read though tehe ;) ). Like I almost cried writing that scene I was so ironically uncomfortable. I will go down with this ship though like honestly I love them too much</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It was late and Geralt was tired. As soon as they arrived at the inn he tramped straight up the stairs. Teasingly, Jaskier had said, “I see we do appreciate the finer things in life then.”</p><p>In response the older man had simply grunted. On the inside though, he was groaning. During their last hunt it seemed as if all the muscles in his body had made a pact to seize and twist non-stop.</p><p>It had been his main goal on the road to ensure that Jaskier not notice he was in pain. Of course, the usually perceptive Bard had been so distracted by the fact that they were actually stopping at a tavern, he failed to notice the other’s pain. Yes, indeed, Jaskier had nearly fallen onto his face on the muddy trail when Geralt proposed that they stay at a tavern.</p><p>“But wh-?”</p><p>“Because you’re just a human and well…aren’t you just pleased that we’re stopping?”</p><p> Geralt made sure to put enough emphasis on the first line and enough of his usually snappy sardonic tone on the end as it died off. Of late it had been harder than ever to be his usually cool self with <strike>his</strike> the Bard. Cornflower irises peered up curiously into Geralt’s amber ones. But with the Witcher seemingly resolved on not giving out any other reason, both men somewhat unwillingly broke the gaze.</p><p>Now, as Geralt walked up the stairs it took everything in him to not breakdown and just <em>tell </em>Jaskier what was wrong- gods but he knew the other man was good with his hands. Pausing once he reached the top of the landing Geralt chastised himself for this thought. No, how could he even whisper that in his mind.</p><p>
  <em>I shouldn’t even fucking know that. </em>
</p><p>For a brief moment, Geralt leaned against the cool stone walls. By this time, Jaskier had turned away from below. Geralt assumed he left to entertain the ever-growing rowdy crowd in the tavern’s bar. As if to confirm this belief the first few cords of Toss a Coin rung out below. Geralt could not help a small smirk play across his lip. Yes, he would tell Jaskier to the end of times that he hated his lute and music. But in the privacy of his own company? Well, that was a different matter entirely.</p><p>With these thoughts in mind he made his way towards their room. A maid stood in the hallway and he was tempted to growl at her for staring at him but immediately rethought this course of action. Clearly, she was no older than 16, and she was waiting to ask him a question. Probably, the tavern owner – her father- had sent her up. Standing in the door frame of his room he turned round to offer an inquisitive white brow.</p><p>“Yes girl?”</p><p>“P-please sir,” she stuttered nervously. Pausing, she took a breath. Taking mercy on her, Geralt tried his best to offer what he hoped was a smile. Tired albeit- but a smile all the same. It appeared to work because some of the nervousness in her face smoothed away.</p><p>“My father was just wondering if you wanted a bath drawn?”</p><p>“Oh,” said Geralt before he could stop himself. He had thought for sure that she had been sent up to request that he and the Bard leave. A bath though. No, he had not expected that.</p><p>“Hmm,” he rumbled. Then, he realized she could not possibly decipher this. Not many people could.</p><p>
  <em>Well, except perhaps for one,</em>
</p><p> hummed an annoyingly much too smug voice in the back of his head.</p><p>“Yes.”</p><p>“Thank you,” he added quietly. Quickly, she turned and scurried down the hallway</p><p>“Someone will be up soon” she tossed over her shoulder.</p><p>Closing the door to room, Geralt took a deep breath. Though his muscles still ached, he felt something akin to what he imagined happiness might feel like. Jaskier was safe, he was safe. And best of all, he would get to relax his muscles in steaming hot water.</p><p>The room was simple as most tavern rooms go. But the beds appeared to be home to fluffy soft mattresses. There was a large metal bathtub sitting in the center of the room. At the sight of it Geralt let out an embarrassingly long and impressive moan.</p><p>Pale slender fingers reached up to begin unstrapping his armour. As he did so, the tavern boy came and went. He bustled into the room with two maids- one the same as before, and the other a new read headed woman. They held by their hands; thin metal handled buckets of steaming hot water.</p><p>After they left Geralt sat on the bed closest to the window. For once in his long life he allowed himself a moment to just breathe. Amber eyes flecked with golden brown scanned the glass panes. Outside the branches of a maple tree swept across the window. It’s various leaves of fiery orange red fluttered gently.</p><p>Though it was fall, above a forlorn snowflake floated down from the greyish clouds. Missing the tavern’s walls, it landed upon the window. Delicate crystalline branches hugged the glass, but they were met with warm rejection. Crystallization returned to liquid. It evaporated into the winds. Unimportant. Gone forever.</p><p>Breaking his gaze from the window, Geralt sighed. If he did not know any better, he would say that the snowflake had made him feel…emotional?</p><p>The Witcher did not wish to wax the poetic as the Bard might. However, the snowflake had reminded him of how vulnerable nature was. The Witcher might hate to admit it but he too was a part of nature. Therefore, he like the snowflake was prone to feeling rejected, irrelevant. More than anything, and especially before Jaskier, he had felt that he too might just slip away one day. Unimportant. Gone forever.</p><p>
  <em>Careful Geralt… is that sentiment?</em>
</p><p>His gaze now fell to the tub. As dramatic as his reverie felt not much time had passed. Beads of water dripped down the curved sides of the tub, steam rose in tendrils making the room warmer. Suddenly Geralt became aware that the tavern’s servants had left cleansing oils behind for him along with what looked like a bottle of shampoo. A creamy bar of blue-grey laid on the flat surface of the bathtub where it curved up. Huffing slightly Geralt’s muttered,</p><p>“I will definitely be sticking to that one then.”</p><p>Standing up from the bed he slowly lifted his shift overhead. It was the only piece of clothing he still had on. Muscles creaked loudly. They seemed to snap like a whip as he did so. Gritting his teeth, Geralt willed himself to go far enough across the hardwood to climb into the metal basin.</p><p>Hot water enveloped the Witcher, and once again he could not help but let out a moan. This time though, he was not alone. Distracted by the soothing intensity of the steaming water, he had not noticed Jaskier slip in just as he settled into the waters.</p><p>“Oooh, Geralt if I had known that you we-.”</p><p>But with a quick glance at Geralt’s pinking face which was not simply from the bath; Jaskier cut himself of, taking mercy on his friend.</p><p>A silence if not comfortable but peaceful now filled the room. From his place in the water Geralt peered out at Jaskier with a curious expression on his face.</p><p>“Bard”</p><p> Pausing Geralt’s face turned even redder. There was no point in going back at this point though so taking a breath, he continued.</p><p>“Bar-. No Jaskier. Would you wash my hair?”</p><p>Geralt said it so quietly that Jaskier could have imagined he heard it. Soft eyes like an ocean storm met warm yellow one’s. And before Geralt could begin to blabber off in an uncharacteristically Jaskiesque manner as too how, no he did not just say that along with a few trademark hm’s thrown in- the lanky brunette assuaged any fears.</p><p>“Yes.” It was declared clearly and confidently.</p><p>Crossing the room, Jaskier pulled the stool from the corner of the room and sitting on it he rolled his sleeves up. To Geralt’s surprise the younger man ignored the bar of soap. Instead he uncapped the bottle of shampoo. Hmm, it smelled of chamomile and times gone. Times when a little boy had run through fields laughing and happy. A pair of hesitant hands rested lightly on his head. Geralt could not help the chuckle that hummed in his chest</p><p>“Jaskier... I am no maiden. You do not have to be so careful”</p><p>“I know dearheart.” And there was a smirk that Geralt heard in that voice. Even though he could not see Jaskier’s face he knew that the younger man’s tongue was poking out.</p><p>“But I have never been given this honor before…and to pardon my French- I don’t want to fuck it up.”</p><p>Jaskier said it in a joking tone but even Geralt after years of traveling with the human and being in the company of other humans heard the underlying tenderness there. He did not think it humanly possible. But then again, he wasn’t human- his face turned redder.</p><p>Fingers pressed into his hair and then they were under it rubbing the soap into his scalp. He could feel the roughened fatty pad of the musician’s fingers massaging his scalp. Geralt closed his eyes and allowed himself to swim in the feeling of being touched by Jaskier in such a simple but intimate way.</p><p> Above he heard Jaskier gently singing. After rinsing his hair out Geralt climbed from the tub. Averting his eyes Jaskier made his way to his bed. Once Geralt was dried off he climbed into his bed. He was all but ready for bed when he noticed Jaskier staring at him, a curious look on his face. Raising a brow Geralt met his gaze.</p><p>“Do you want me to oil your hair and braid it,” Jaskier asked in a soft voice</p><p>Surprising himself, Geralt nodded his still somewhat moist head. Trying to hide the grin on his face, Jaskier climbed up beside Geralt slipping behind the larger man.</p><p>Though Geralt had not been expecting this level of closeness- he leaned into it. It was a warmth that the Witcher was not going to reject when offered to him. A soft breath blew across the back of his neck as Jaskier laughed.</p><p>“Ah… not so tough are you love?”</p><p><em>Dearheart…then love</em>? Jaskier always called everyone these pet names including Geralt. But <em>fuck</em>. If he kept calling him these names during moments like these, the Witcher was apt to…well the white -haired giant did not quite know what he was apt to do yet.</p><p>Reaching over to the nightstand the younger man reached for the bottle of oil which unnoticed by Geralt he had moved from the basin to the nightstand.</p><p>Gentle hands once again reached into that white hair. Starting from the scalp they pushed down on flesh, circulating the oil all over.</p><p>Two minutes passed and Geralt could tell that Jaskier was done. Still, the younger man’s hands gently caressed his head. They pulled through the many strands of white and then reaching the end the process began all over. Braiding, unbraiding, braiding.</p><p>Geralt’s legs twitched uncomfortably. Though he was loath to move from his position the Witcher’s muscles were beginning to cramp again. Moving slightly, he made as if to sit up but Jaskier placed an arresting hand on Geralt.</p><p>As if reading his mind, the younger man moved his hand from Geralt’s head to his upper thighs. There two large hands pressed into his legs, kneading the muscles there. Geralt settled back down once again leaning his head back onto Jaskier’s chest. His vision going hazy his lips opened desperately. The Witcher worried he might forget to say the words as he fell into sleep.</p><p>“Thank you Jaskier…thank you for everything tonight.”</p><p>“Of course, Geralt.”</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  
</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Usually i write hurt/comfort but on a completely unrelated note I watched Bly Manor this weekend and cried for like 15 minutes cuz it crushed my romantic heart. Therefore I decided not to write hurt/comfort so we have whatever this is. Not me living vicariously through Geralt/ Jaskier fics...not that/ it's mental illness innit. 💀😭</p></blockquote></div></div>
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